Page 5 of Tattoos and Tiaras
“Yes, Sir,” I said automatically. While I prided myself on being a strong-minded sub and a cheeky brat when given the chance, I never disrespected a Dom. Well, not unless they were total dicks and, thankfully, I'd only had a few dealings with men like that.
“You know how we have two displays for the event tonight.”
“Yes. I had Mouse calling this morning making sure I was going. He's excited about the demonstration.” I stretched my legs out, and Tennyson hopped up on them like his own private ramp.
“We all are. It's been a while since Cal's shown his prowess with his floggers and to watch him give a Florentine demonstration…I'm really looking forward to the High Protocol demonstration.” I said rubbing Tennyson’s ears.
“Yes, I knew you would be. That's why I thought of you first. It seems that the Master giving the demonstration might have to pull out of the event as his usual sub is unable to attend tonight.”
“Oh no, that’s a shame. We really don't do enough demos or talks about High Protocol and TPE.”
“My thoughts too.” Roman answered, pausing for a moment. “Which is why I suggested you to the Master as a replacement. I know it's been a while since you did a scene like that, which was the other reason I suggested your name. I think it would do you good.” There was something in Roman’s voice, something that suggested he wasn't telling me the whole truth.
“You know I'm more than happy to lend a hand especially when it's a kink I'm pretty hardcore into, but I need to know who the Master is.”
“Ah.”
My subby senses tingled “What does ‘Ah’ mean, Sir?”
“You have to promise not to overreact and think about what I'm asking, Cullen.” I sighed internally. Roman was using the tone that Doms and daddies worldwide used when they meant business.
“This sounds ominous.”
“Not at all. The Master in question is Perry. He usually has Anthony act as his sub for these demos, but Ant has moved to Glasgow with his husband and can't make it down in time. I know things between you and Perry are a bit tense.”
“Understatement of the year,” I muttered softly into my coffee.
“But I'm hoping that you would at least be willing to help him out with the demo. High Protocol is one of your core kinks, and you were only complaining to us the other week that it’s been months since you've been able to enjoy a session.”
I scowled. Of course Roman would remember that conversation. The man remembers everything.
“True.” I conceded and picked up my mug, only to see I'd finished the remains of my coffee.
“And you have to admit you and Perry would make an amazing pair in a scene.” Roman was digging now, but I let the image playout in my head to how it would look. There was no denying that Perry was a handsome man with an almost angelic quality to his looks. If he wasn't such a prissy posh snob, I probably would have dropped to my knees for the man in an instant. But, as it was, I always felt like he was judging me.
The sensible thing would be to decline and ask Roman to find some other sub, but I was itching for a good scene and, begrudgingly, I knew Perry was an excellent Dom regardless of my feelings about him. Would I be cutting my nose off to spite my face if I told Roman no?
“What kind of scene are we talking about?” I asked before I could think better of it.
“Poses mostly. Perry is going to also talk about TPE dynamics.”
“So, kneeling and looking pretty is what you want me to do.” I smiled despite my reservations.
“Exactly. And we both know your poses are impeccable. So, what do you say? Help us out? I'll even make sure there’s a batch of Marco's shortbread cookies waiting for you.” Oh, that was playing dirty. I was a sucker for any biscuit-related bribery.
“Okay, fine, I'll do it. But you are going to owe me. Now, if you don't mind, I really do need to get some sleep.”
“Thank you, Cullen. Get to the club early so you and Perry can discuss the scene. It's nothing too complex, but I know what perfectionists you both can be.”
Pfft, I wasn't the crazed perfectionist between Perry and I, but I wasn’t going to start that argument; bed was calling me like a perfect soft siren song.
“Not a problem. This should be at least interesting,” I muttered, ignoring Roman’s chuckle as I hung up from the call.
Leo was not where I had left him. Tennyson mewled behind me looking smug. “Did you steal Leo?” I asked him.
I looked towards the foot of my bed where Tennyson's fancy cat cushion lay. Lo and behold, my battered old stuffed lion was there, covered in a pair of my boxers that I must have thrown there that morning. I threw the boxers into the corner with the rest of the washing I would get to at some point, possibly when I'd run out of clean clothes.
I gently bopped Tennyson's little nose. “My bear.” Tennyson’s meow seemed to say ‘well that's all good and proper, but when you’re not home all bets are off’. My cat was the perfect brat like me, I could say.
